8861. GENDARME AT THE FOOT OF THE BED

GENDARME AT THE 

FOOT OF THE BED

I awoke with a gendarme at the foot

of the bed, holding a Baedeker for 

points unknown. My travelogue had

a musical scale, an accompaniment 

of thieves to be sure. The capstone

of his heady mountain was the

castle of deceit. We laughed it 

off as incomplete, as something

never finished, though not

forgotten.